


Hux's Changeling

by AnnaTaure



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bad Guys Win, Conditioning, Force-Sensitive Armitage Hux, M/M, Minor Character Death, Smut, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26031532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTaure/pseuds/AnnaTaure
Summary: Armitage Hux can use the Force. It makes things better for himself. Not so much for the people around him.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux, in a way - Relationship
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

According to Supreme Leader Snoke, Kylo Ren's former identity was the most guarded secret in all the First Order. General Armitage Hux scoffed at the idea as he made his way towards the interrogation room where said Knight of Ren was busy questioning the Resistance pilot they had just captured on Jakku.

The general had a dirty secret all his own, and unlike the fact that Ben Organa-Solo had no problem torturing a childhood friend or killing a whole school of sleeping teens and children, this one had not spread among the high command. It meant Hux's life, anyway. 

His father had developed quite the obsessions for the Force in his time: how it was transmitted from parent to child, how a body responded to it, if it could be artificially added into an organism... The old jerk had had no qualms using his eight-year-old son for his researches, apparently in vain. In truth, he had succeeded, but even that young, Armitage Hux had known better than to boast about his newfound abilities. He had claimed to remain as Force-blind as before, and Brendol Hux had used other ways to torment him. He had invented an endless supply of those along the years. 

As he neared the room, he saw Ren storming out, his tattered robes billowing around him. Hux had about fifteen minutes before the knight reached the bridge. More if he stopped by his quarters to... meditate. That should do. 

Inside, the pilot - Poe Dameron - was lying unconscious on the rack, slumped forwards in his restraints. Handsome, in spite of the blood and sweat running down his face, Hux thought idly. Certainly brave, though it would amount to nothing in the end. 

Then Hux focused on his mission. His main talent was gauging the mood of a room and influencing people, particularly through carefully crafted speeches, but sometimes he could glimpse surface thoughts, specially when his target had been somehow weakened. And Dameron was beyond weakened. Between the physical torture and Ren's mental assault, it was quite surprising that either his mind or his heart had not broken yet. 

Hux reached for the pilot's mentalscape. He felt shame and despair at the perceived failure, pain at an almost overwhelming level, and... ah, there it was. A tiny spark of hope. He had not given the base away, the Resistance was safe. 

Hux leaned subtly on that spot. He caught a glance of a bunker in a forest, several officers in a conference room, Organa... a name, he needed a name... 

_“There will be no extraction,” the former princess was saying. “It is too dangerous.”_

_“I'll be back on D'Qar before you know it, General.”_

“Thank you my dear. That was very helpful.” 

Dameron chose that moment to wake up and Hux stepped back, not so keen on being spat on. The pilot blinked, trying to focus on the other man. 

“Welcome back among the living, Mr Dameron,” Hux greeted him pleasantly. 

“Here... for... another round?” 

He still tried to sound defiant. That was almost endearing. 

“No, Mr Dameron,” Hux assured. “You gave me everything I needed to attend serious matters while Ren wastes his time chasing after your map. What were you thinking, by the way, looking for a ghost to win your war for you?” 

“Skywalker is more than a ghost,” Dameron replied fervently. “He's hope.” 

“A hope that will not do you any good. I intend to erase _Commander Dameron_ from existence so perfectly no one will be able to sniff a whiff of him when I am done.” 

He picked a syringe in a pocket of his coat and injected its content in Dameron's neck before the man could speak again. 

“Sweet dreams,” Hux whispered as the pilot went limp again. 

*** 

When Hux reached the bridge, four minutes early, Ren was already there, pacing impatiently. 

“Where were you?” he demanded. 

“Filling some paperwork and overseeing the removal of Dameron's corpse. He did not survive your intrusion in his mind.” 

With the mask, it was impossible to read Ren's expression, but he had clearly not expected that. He had probably wished to make a spectacle of Dameron's execution, a gory show aimed at his estranged mother. Well, too bad. 

“The map is inside a BB astromech unit,” Ren announced. “Your men should have no issue bringing it back.” 

Typical. Whenever Ren felt a task was “beneath him”, he would delegate it to Hux, and then blame the general in case something turned wrong. 

“If it is still on the planet, it should be easy,” Hux assured. 

His orders to his captains were a bit different, though. 

“Bring the droid if you can, destroy it if you must. The Resistance cannot have it anyway.” 

“Yes sir!” 

Once they were gone, and with Ren meditating (sulking) in his quarters, Hux went to his own rooms and contacted the _Fulminatrix_. Captain Canady was not his favorite underling, far from it, but he always got the job done with minimal losses, if any. 

“General.” 

“Captain, I have some work for you. We discovered that the Resistance's main base is on D'Qar, in the Illeenium system. We don't know if they have a fleet in orbit, so I would suggest sending a probe first.” 

“Indeed, sir. Should we debark troops on the planet?” 

“Let them scamper first and shoot down as many ships as you can. Capture one if possible. Then send scouts to fetch databanks and supplies. We will use the buildings for our own purposes afterwards.” 

Canady seemed pleasantly surprised. 

“Very well, sir. We will launch the probe immediately.” 

Hux discreetly sighed in relief. 

It did not last since, as soon as Canady's hologram vanished, his unofficial aide Mitaka signaled him that Supreme Leader Snoke demanded his presence in the communication room. 

“Coming. Thank you, Dopheld.” 

Hux felt a headache growing already. He knew what the old prune wanted: how long before Starkiller was operational? 

Knowing full well that Snoke intended to get rid of him as soon as the base was ready (Ren should _really_ guard his thoughts better), Hux had slowed the process down as much as possible, even sabotaging his own work to do so. But it would not last forever, and Snoke was growing impatient. 

“General, report,” was the ancient being's only greeting as his hologram appeared. 

Hux always felt revulsion whenever he saw Snoke's face. Something had partially caved his skull in, and some tendons could be seen through the damaged skin of his throat. Combined with the oily impression his mental contact would leave, small wonder Hux would feel like throwing up after a chat with him. 

“Ren located the map, Supreme Leader,” Hux said in a flat voice. “It is still on Jakku and should be in our hands shortly.” 

“See that it is. Regarding your progress on Starkiller...” 

“We solved the problem of fusing crystals together. The production of new units can resume,” Hux announced, which was technically true. 

He just did not intend to use this progress the way Snoke imagined. 

“Good,” the ancient creature said, the praise apparently enough in his opinion. “I expect this map soon.” 

When the com was cut, Hux spat on the floor in disgust. 

*** 

“You worry too much, Chewie,” Han Solo said confidently as their ship neared Jakku. “Given Plutt's face when you threatened to tear his arms off if he sold the _Falcon_ during our mission, I'm pretty sure he didn't even let anyone visit it.” 

A muffled grumble answered him. 

“Anyway, we have our intel, and we can ditch that frying pan back in Plutt's junkyard. Preferably without crossing path with the First Order. Wonder what they're doing in orbit.” 

His copilot emitted a series of groans and barks ending on a question. 

“Fuel, spare parts, old databanks... Can't blame them for scavenging without intermediaries, Plutt and the likes would try to rob them blind.” 

They dropped the topic in order to check Plutt's status and ensure their beloved _Falcon_ was still where they had left it a month prior. The Crolute was waiting for them as they landed, directing some of his ahem, employees to transfer the cargo from the returned ship into the _Falcon_. 

Han was fine with not doing all the hard work - his age was beginning to catch up with him - and went to inspect the hull while Chewie kept an eye on the scavengers coming and going in the station. A sharp bark brought the captain back outside. 

“What did you see?” 

With a low rumble, the Wookie pointed to a girl leaving the outpost along with a round astromech unit. The white and orange markings seemed awfully familiar. 

“Let's get a closer look.” 

They managed to intercept her before she could start her homemade speeder. 

“Excuse me, miss. How much for this droid?” Han asked. 

The little astromech began beeping excitedly when it identified him. 

“Oh, you know each other? Well, Unkar Plutt would've bought it for twelve weeks of rations,” she replied. 

_Oh, for kriff's sake! That droid is worth at least three thousands credits with all its options!_

He forced himself to smile and act like a good merchant. 

“What about twelve weeks of ration, ten liters of fresh water and a brand new blaster?” he offered. 

“That sounds good,” she replied with a glint in her eye. 

“Or even a lift off this place?” Han suggested. 

If that kid was twenty, he would be damned. No one that young should be on Jakku alone. 

But she shook her head. 

“I can't leave. I'm waiting for my family, you see. They'll come back for me, I know it.” 

The honesty in her voice was painful to hear. 

“And they left... long ago?” Han ventured. 

“When I was about five.” 

He barely contained an exclamation of disbelief. You had to be massively delusional if you thought anyone would come back on that hellhole after such a long time. He considered her expression, so full of naivete, and opted not to add a word. She would not believe him anyway. 

“So, fine with my deal?” he asked instead. 

“Yes, it's good. The droid is yours." 

“Chewie, stay with the lass while I get the water and the other stuff, will you?” 

The Wookie growled affirmatively, while the droid emitted a perplexed beep. Han shook his head. 

“Nah, I'd rather pay first. Good impressions and all that,” he added with a wink. 

The Wookie rolled his eyes as obviously as possible while his associate went back to their ship. He came back a few minutes later with the promised supplies on a hovercart. 

“Here you go, young lady.” 

She counted the rations before agreeing to let them take the droid. BB-8 beeped a goodbye, then rolled after Han and Chewie towards the _Falcon_. As they sat in the cockpit, an alarm began to ring. 

“Ah, frak! Three TIEs incoming! Looks like we're not the only ones on the market for you, pal! Chewie, take us out of there!” 

They scrambled to take off before the TIEs reached the outpost. They were coming from the destroyer in orbit, no doubt, unless the First Order had managed to stuff a hyperdrive in his fighters. Anyway, they had to leave asap before the TIEs could report. 

BB-8 warbled a question. 

“Check the life systems before we leave atmo, okay?” 

An affirmative beep later, the astromech set to work, while both pilots pushed the sublight engines to maximum speed as they shot up towards the stratosphere. 

Han had a lot of questions trotting in his mind: why was BB-8, and by extension his pilot Poe Dameron, on Jakku? They did not have a meeting planned with Han himself, so who was their contact? And where was Poe, by the way? He was not the kind of man to leave his droid behind. He would ask the astromech as soon as they were out of this mess. 

*** 

_Where is Dameron?_ also haunted FN-2187's mind. The trooper had planned to liberate the pilot from the interrogation room and bring him to one of the destroyer's flight decks to steal a TIE and escape, but the man was nowhere to be found. Had he already been executed, or had he succumbed to Ren's method of torture? 

He would have to wait again for another opportunity to run. Next mission planetside, he would ditch the armor and leave either by night or during a patrol. He allowed himself a minute of remembrance for the pilot and his fallen comrades, then went back to work, anonymous once more. 

*** 

“No Chewie, I am not stopping on Takodana with this ship,” Han stated firmly. “I'll send someone else to pick the weapons. The place crawls with First Order spies. Don't ask me why Maz can't be bothered to get rid of them, I don't know.” 

An annoyed growl followed. Chewie was equally perplexed, and dismayed he could not enjoy Maz's hospitality. He emitted another question. 

“Nope, don't know why Leia sent her best pilot on Jakku rather than someone more... expendable. We'll ask her when we reach D'Qar.” 

*** 

They exited hyperspace over the planet on schedule, but even before diving into the lower layers of the atmosphere, they knew something was off. They could not pin any signal coming from the base, though Han tried to call them several times. Once they flew over the location of the Resistance's hideout, they understood why. 

The bunkers were still standing but the landing pad had been turned into rubble by a precision airstrike which had also destroyed an uncertain number of fighters. Too accurate for an orbital bombing, Han thought. The First Order had sent their advanced TIE fighters to eliminate whoever had not been fast enough to flee. And since the buildings had not been damaged, it meant than sooner or later they would come back to take possession of the base. A scan proved that most of the transports had evacuated, at least, and thus few people would have been killed on the ground. So, where could have they gone? Time to contact Lando, Han decided. His estates on Bespin and other mining colonies had better security than Maz's castle, anyway. 

They took off again, jumping into hyperspace towards Bespin and its floating city. 

*** 

The holding cells aboard the _Fulminatrix_ had never been so full, Captain Canady mused with satisfaction. They had succeeded in capturing two transports and destroyed four others, and though Organa had managed to escape, she would have at best forty or fifty people left with her. 

Hux's intel had been correct, and soon the general would have much more to work with, as the interrogations had begun. Canady had ordered to start with the younger and more fanatically devoted of their prisoners. He had observed that those were the first to break when they realized their ideology had led them right into the rancor's maw. The rest would be sent to the _Finalizer_ within the day, along with the information already gathered, such as a few contacts and the names of several officers who had fled with Organa. 

*** 

Back on the _Finalizer_ , Kylo Ren had been left reeling from his last comm with Snoke. This time he had not been able to try and deflect the blame on Hux. The map was Kylo's responsibility, so he should have gone to Jakku personally instead of delegating to mere stromtroopers. As a punishment, Snoke had ordered him to come along for a journey to Korriban, looking for ancient Sith artifacts. That meant possibly several weeks of absence and Hux regaining whatever influence Ren had managed to erode. Not much, granted, as somehow the crew seemed to defer more to the orange runt than to Vader's heir. He followed Snoke nonetheless, the old creature ordering him to come alone with his own shuttle. 

The flight to Korriban was uneventful. The Republic Fleet, or what remained of its glorious days, was cowardly stationed around the capitol worlds instead of making themselves useful. Soon they would be turned to ashes along the planets. Ren had opposed Starkiller at first since one, it would rob him of an opportunity to show his prowess against the Republic troops and two, it would allow Hux to shine. Snoke had shot him down anyway, calling him _childish_ of all things. Ren had swallowed his retorts and obeyed. Since no one had thought about sabotaging his ship, he would use this trip to eliminate Snoke for good; the old bastard acted just like Luke, holding him back instead of providing him with useful knowledge. And then, Hux and the rest would be out of his way as well. 

Korriban was truly a bleak place, devoid of plants or color. Snoke ordered him to land near a dark stone cliff riddled with cracks and the entrances of small caves. Once they had disembarked, the creature led the way towards a steep path winding around the face of the cliff. They had been climbing for nearly fifteen minutes when an explosion shook them where they stood and caused a few stones to fall around them. Ren immediately ran back to the shuttle, a bad feeling twisting his stomach. 

The feeling proved justified, as he discovered that whatever explosives hidden in the shuttle had reduced it to a smoking ruin surrounded by twisted pieces of metal torn from the hull. No way he could repair the damages. 

They were stuck on Korriban for the foreseeable future. 

*** 

Being Snoke's main interlocutor had its uses, General Hux decided. For instance, it helped to hide the fact that the decrepit bastard was not at the helm anymore, and Hux alone led the Order. The old Imperials would scream blue murder should they discover it, so he would have to play skillfully to keep both his command and his life. First, he needed to locate a few more contacts of the Resistance, in order to destroy their network for good. Once those were gone, Organa would be virtually powerless and bereft of any influence in the Republic. In the meantime, Hux could send all the old jerks away to annex more territories and resources; then they would not be underfoot while he worked. 

*** 

The interrogation of the Resistance officers had led to several discreet arrests and the elimination of two gangs of smugglers and pirates, cutting even more of the Resistance's supply chain. The First Order now had the names of all the people involved in the militia itself and bounties had been offered for their capture, preferably alive. Meanwhile, Hux and his general staff were busy negotiating deals with such and such planetary government, and looking for suitable worlds to colonize. There were still so many to explore, each so uniquely different from the others... That had been something Hux had enjoyed as a teenager - the only thing, perhaps - discovering planets in the Unknown Regions with their weird plants and fauna, their strangely colored skies and rolling waves. Well... It was not the right time to wax lyrical about the very few good things about his life, though. He had some old officers to push to retirement (or under the speeder) so he could work in relative peace. 

*** 

Bespin looked even busier than usual when they finally reached the place. There were ships flying from and to the station in an almost constant flow and Han wondered what kind of changes Lando had brought to the city to attract such a gathering. Perhaps a nice casino and a free zone. The Republic had granted a lot of those along the years to improve trade between the Rim worlds. 

The _Falcon_ was allowed to land without difficulty on one of the city's platforms. _That makes a change, at least._

Lando was already waiting for him. Though they had never stopped communicating along the years, due to their respective work, they had not seen each other in person for a long while. Thankfully, Lando still looked the same extravagantly elegant gentleman, though with a full head of grey hair now. 

He opened his arms wide and clapped Han on the back. 

“Glad to see you again and in one piece, my friend!” 

“I can say the same. Do you have a place where we can talk... discreetly?” 

Lando raised a hand. 

“No need. Leia and what remains of the Resistance are all here. I made sure they were registered as traders and officially, their ships left yesterday.” 

Han sighed in relief. At least they were safe. 

“Come on, you must want to meet them.” 

Han, Chewie and BB-8 followed him in the spotless corridors of the city after making sure the _Falcon_ was parked and well-hidden in a fake warehouse. They reached private quarters near Lando's own, where tourists would certainly not wander, even by accident. 

Leia and her troops - the few that had survived - were lodged there, no more than forty people split up between bedrooms and spacious livings. Her face lit up when she spotted... well, the droid, it seemed. 

“You found it! It's wonderful! Did you read the map?” 

Han and Chewbacca looked at each other with a frown. 

“Don't know anything about a map,” Han replied honestly. “I spotted Dameron's droid on Jakku while we were picking the _Falcon_ from the mission you gave us, remember? No sign of his owner, by the way, and I thought it would be better to bring it back asap. What map would it be?” 

She signaled them to sit on a sofa, while BB-8 rolled to a plug to reload his batteries. 

“When Luke went on his search for the original Jedi Temple, he left a map so that we could find him if his help was needed, using documents he had discovered in the Imperial archives.” 

“Yes, I remember that he spent weeks in there. So he did find some useful information. Good.” 

“Knowing that Imperial supporters might go after him, he extracted the most sensitive part of the map and entrusted it to an old friend of mine, Lor San Tekka.” 

Han nodded. He had met the man once and not wished to renew the experience. San Tekka was, certainly, devoted to Leia as the last monarch of Alderaan, but also living in his own parallel world where his studies of the Force (which he could not feel at all) were put above everything else. 

Chewie barked a question. 

“So you sent Dameron to retrieve that part, because you think Luke would be an asset in your current fight?” Han translated. 

His wife nodded. 

“Luke has been a symbol of hope for decades. We could use some right now,” she admitted. “I had thought more people would answer the call.” 

“I'm not sure Luke will be enough,” Han said tentatively, Chewie grumbling his agreement by his side. “You just have a few dozens people with you, and hand-me-downs from the fleet, if not stuff that was already outdated during the last war. Luke might provide intel, and thinking out of the box, but I'm afraid you're expecting a kriffing miracle here. Try and find more allies first, perhaps.” 

“We'll see. Can you display the map?” she asked the droid. 

BB-8 complied while beeping questions about its pilot that were, for now, eluded. Leia took her datapad and began typing, her attention fully on her calculations. 

Han hesitated, then left the room in order to go and chat a bit with the rest of her fighters. The mood, small wonder, was gloomy at best. Some were already mourning Dameron, and apparently all of them knew why he had been sent to Jakku. _So much for a secret mission..._

They were too deep in trouble, this time. 

*** 

During the nine days since Snoke's departure, Hux had had more free time and made more progress than ever. Not having the old coot constantly poking into his mind was exhilarating. 

The “holidays” could not last long, alas, and soon several officers began asking questions. Hux used the good old trick of telling one lie and one truth to calm them down. 

“I have not received any communication from Kylo Ren since he left the . As for Leader Snoke, his last message was two days ago, which so far is not unusual.” 

It became obvious, though, that no one truly minded the absence of the two Force-users. The mood on the _Finalizer_ had significantly improved and the medbay saw far fewer people requesting calming pills. Hux had been able to let his pet lothcat roam free in his quarters during working hours now that he was sure Ren would not come back and the budget for repairs had decreased by an impressive amount. 

On top of that, the intel gathered from the captured Resistance fighters had begun to trickle down to their informants, backers and other accomplices. Their original batch of captives had already dwindled, by the way, some choosing suicide and others executed. They still held about sixty of them in custody and complete isolation, with meals served at irregular hours. Soon they would crack and beg for some human interaction. 

Speaking of human reactions, Hux had yet another experiment to try. Going back to his quarters, he rummaged into his desk drawers for a moment before fishing the object he needed: a simple ring of steel hanging from a silvery chain. He intended to mail it back to its now rightful (and only) owner with a nice letter next time he went planetside, and watch how things would unfold after that. 

*** 

Leia had begun gathering a few allies and some new ships on Bespin when Kes Dameron appeared in the city, asking to see her post-haste. 

Organa granted the request as soon as it was reported to her. Kes was an old friend, and Force knew that she needed all of them in those trying times. 

The older Dameron looked awful, she thought as he entered the suite where Lando had installed her. His once greying hair had turned completely white and he seemed exhausted, as if carrying all the weight of the world. He probably had not eaten much either. 

“Kes! What happened? Was there an attack on the farm?” 

“I wish...” he replied in a hoarse voice, rough from crying too much. “A few days ago, I received this by mail.” 

He raised a hand, dangling his deceased wife's wedding ring before her eyes. The ring Poe had constantly worn on a chain under his shirt or his flysuit. 

“It came with a courteous letter from one General Hux of the First Order,” Kes went on, “praising my son's bravery and that he had tried to save the villagers harboring him. Imagine that, eh?” and as his eyes hardened, “What the Hell was Poe doing on Jakku?” 

“I sent him on a mission. An old acquaintance of Luke's had a map that will lead us to him,” Leia replied evenly. "”We managed to get it back, at least.” 

“You retrieved a bloody map, but not my son? His life was not worth a piece of code to you?” 

“He knew the risks when he accepted the mission,” Leia retorted. “He was warned an extraction would not be possible.” 

Kes' face pinched even more, if possible. 

“And he agreed to go anyway because your propaganda convinced him that your poorly organized militia was more important than his own life. I never wanted him to become a military pilot, you know...” he concluded sadly. “Why do you need Luke back, anyway? If he did not return, it means that either he's dead, or he has not found what he was looking for yet.” 

Before she could call for help, he had taken his blaster out and shot twice. 

*** 

_Five years later..._

Doctor Hux was a happy man. After his little experiment with Kes Dameron had proved successful (no more Organa... no more Kes Dameron either, as he had opted for suicide right after the deed), most of his plans had run smoothly. He had been forced to eliminate a few old officers that wanted to revert to the good Imperial ways, but that had been more a satisfaction than a chore. Having Pryde executed for treason had felt so, so sweet. 

After that, and the finale victory over several privately-funded militia (and no, the Resistance had not been the only one), Hux had prudently decided to fade back into the shadows. Once, his dream had been to become emperor and rule the galaxy but as he negotiated with such and such planetary governments or participated in yet another social gathering, he had realized that he hated being under the spotlights so much. He wanted to see his hard work acknowledged and receive his due congratulations for it, of course, but he could live without the oompahs and flashlights. So Starkiller, still very far from completion, had been quickly binned, the project converted into a terraforming experience to turn something close to an ice cube into a planet fit for colonizing. The kyber crystal complex had also demonstrated its uses to double, if not triple the amount of data one could send in a given slot of time, and Hux was still working to improve its capacities. Without blowing the planet up, of course. Its system did not need a second star. 

Back in the Core, the head of State had been elected by a restricted Senate two years ago and had re-established the seat of legislative and executive power on Coruscant, Chandrila hosting the Court of Justice. A physical separation helped people remember that politics should not control the law and so on... The new President was barely more than a puppet for the First Order, naturally, but so far he had been well accepted. People were _tired_ of the endless wars. 

Before retiring from public life and devoting himself to research and design, Hux had just made sure that neither Ren nor Snoke would ever come back to bother him and ruin his achievements. A quick trip to Korriban had put those worries to rest. Apparently, Ren had skewered Snoke during a fit of rage, and died days or weeks later when his rations went out. Knowing that had been a relief. 

As Hux fondly remembered that episode, the door to his office opened, revealing his favorite test pilot. 

Now TP-4705, the man still possessed the slightly roguish charm the Resistance had used for their recruitment, though a bit of silver had sneaked into his black hair, giving him an odd sort of distinguished look. And Maker, who would have guessed that Poe Dameron would look that good in a First Order uniform? That had been the icing on the cake, after the reconditioning had worked on him without a hitch and Hux had rewritten his whole life. Nothing like blatant changes: he had been furious at the Republic's corruption but instead of enlisting with the Resistance, he had turned to the First Order, the future rather than the past. It was remarkably easy to switch a true fanatic from one cause to another, easier than to convert an apathetic individual, Hux had observed. The proper mindset was already there. It had taken months to get the desired result, but the final product was so impressive... Totally worth Hux's time and efforts. 

That Dameron had come to associate Hux with safety during the procedure had been a rather unexpected side-effect, though the former general would not complain as it had earned him the pilot's undying loyalty. Possibly a bit more, even. 

“So, how did the test go?” he asked as the pilot entered and saluted. “At ease, pilot,” he added as the man remained at attention. 

“As smooth as a game on holobillard, sir,” TP-4705 replied. “The new fighter responds well and its reactions are gradual enough to allow for delicate manoeuvers. However, the accelerations might need a little bit more punch, if I may.” 

“Understood. Send a report to the technical team with as many details as you can, they will have a look at the problem. Excellent job. As usual, I might add. You are a great addition to our team.” 

The pilot flushed slightly. 

“Thank you sir. It's easy when you love what you do...” 

Hux smiled, genuinely this time. His pilot always enjoyed being sent among the stars. 

“Now, on another topic, you have recently reached the rank of Captain, which means you can choose a new name for yourself.” 

The former Poe Dameron nodded. 

“I've already thought about it. Tevar Pazen is ready for service, sir,” he replied with a grin. “Just needed a bit of imagination. I already had the initials, after all.” 

“Good name,” Hux approved. “I will make the change in our registers before this evening.” 

“Yeah, but before that...” 

The newly-minted Tevar walked around the desk and, pulling Hux to him and kissing him soundly on the lips, his hands petting the officer's narrow waist. _Oh, that's the best..._ , Hux thought, fingers tangling in the smaller man's curls. 

When they pulled apart for some air, Hux chided him gently. 

“I may not be a general anymore, but I'm still your employer, _Pazen_. Not sure this is a good idea.” 

“Only off-duty, then,” he conceded. “There must be _something_ I can do to thank you for... well, everything, right?” 

_Oh, isn't that sweet?_ The man had also become notably humbler after the procedure, something that would ensure his prolonged survival. No one liked a braggart, whether in the lower decks or among officers, so Dameron's new persona would avoid a knife to the back easily enough that time. The fact that no one from the Resistance had ever bothered to try and locate him, without speaking of a rescue, and that there had been no memorial of any kind, said a lot about how he had been perceived by his former team. 

All the better for Hux and the Order, in the end. 

Much later on the evening, after Hux had filled all the proper forms for his pilot's new identity, he allowed to man to show his _gratitude_ as he wished. First on his knees and then on all four on the bed. 

“Can you... can you keep the gloves on, next time?” the pilot asked almost shyly after they were done. “I really liked that.” 

“Of course, dear,” Hux purred. “If it pleases you...” 

The younger man nodded enthusiastically, prompting a grin from his officer. _Just perfect._

When Pazen was fast asleep, Hux considered him for a moment. The man had grown attached, certainly, but the feeling might become mutual. He was so charming when he was not working for the enemy, after all... 

Hux smiled in the dark as he began to doze. Yep, not a single hint of remorse in sight. 


	2. Addendum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, since it was required...  
> Bah, who am I fooling? I was going to write it anyway :D

_Much later on the evening, after Hux had filled all the proper forms for his pilot's new identity, he allowed to man to show his gratitude as he wished._

They had left the office, Hux redirecting all his calls to a voice assistant, to retreat into his personal quarters, one floor above. 

The place was a far cry from his room aboard the _Finalizer_ , cold and austere and grey. He had put colors there, and comfortable cushions, and a mattress that would not leave his back seemingly bruised and stiff as a piece of wood. Ideal for the type of exercises he had in mind right now. 

“It’s nice,” Pazen commented. “Cozy.” 

“I have had more than my share of discomfort,” Hux admitted. “Please, make yourself at home.” 

“And how?” the brunet asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Well, you could start with… taking off you clothes. All of them,” Hux added at the pilot’s smirk. 

Pazen complied, first putting his cap on the nearest chair, then his gloves. The First Order uniform suited him beautifully, Hux thought with an indulgent smile, as the grey jacket followed, and the undershirt, revealing a nicely toned chest. The pilot was still training regularly in the gym, though he made sure not to overbulk. Hux ran his still gloved fingers one Pazen’s skin, pausing for a few seconds to tease a brown nipple. 

Pazen breathed in sharply. 

“Eh… careful…” 

The flush on his cheeks proved he liked that, but of course such a dutiful man would not want to finish too quickly. 

“The rest, if you please,” Hux reminded him, tutting playfully. 

Pazen obliged, sitting on the chair to get rid of his boots and socks, then standing again to pull his breeches down with his underwear in the same move. 

“So?” he asked, sounding more apprehensive than provocative. 

Hux reassured him, of course. 

“Nothing that you should hide, pilot. You take care of yourself.” 

The man fully _blushed_ at that. Had Dameron already been so hesitant before conditioning? It was rather enticing anyway, Hux decided, so much more than the endless tasteless jokes and bragging. 

Taking Pazen by the shoulders, Hux manoeuvred him to turn around so he would face the table and nudged him so he would brace onto it. A little tap, and the pilot obediently spread his legs to allow Hux a better access. Opening a drawer in his bedside, he picked a small pot of gel, opened it and coated a finger with the substance, letting it warm a bit. He wanted Pazen to enjoy himself enough that he would come back on his own initiative. 

The pilot startled nonetheless when he felt said finger probing his entrance. 

“Shh, shh… relax,” Hux instructed, having way too much fun with this little session. 

It amused him endlessly to finally have the upper hand, even out of the battlefield. On this idea, he slowly pushed a finger in, careful to monitor the pilot’s reactions. Pazen let a breath out and loosened his muscles gradually, letting Hux working him up. Once Hux added a second finger, the pilot began to groan and buck his hips slightly to get more inside. _Good, good. We’re getting there…_

He stopped as soon as the pilot started to moan. 

“But...” 

“We wouldn’t want to finish too soon, now. Don’t you think it’s my turn to have some fun?” 

“Where d’you want me?” 

Still eager to please. Well, who was Hux to disappoint such a generous man? 

“I’d like you on your knees. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.” 

Pazen grinned before dropping on the carpet in front of Hux. He unbuckled his belt first, pushing it on the floor, then took his sweet time untying his trousers and sliding them down, following with the underwear. Licking his lips in anticipation, he nuzzled carefully at the small bush of fiery orange hairs at the root of Hux’s cock, testing the waters, so to speak. 

“Clean,” he approved, before tentatively taking the head into his mouth. 

Hux breathed in slowly, trying to calm himself, which proved more difficult with each little suction the pilot made, adding a swirl of his tongue in the process, humming around the warm flesh in his mouth. He gripped the edge of the table as Pazen attacked in earnest then, almost swallowing him whole. Hux had not gotten a decent blowjob in _years_. No way he would ask such a thing to one of his subordinates. Some officers would abuse their power in such a way, but they tended to meet rather… unfortunate ends when Hux got words about their misdeeds. 

A bit lost in his thoughts, he came back to the real world in time to prevent a premature end to this pleasant evening. 

"Stop here… please.” 

The pilot obediently let go. 

“Go to the bed, your back to me,” Hux ordered in a slightly breathless voice. 

Once again, perfect obedience. Pazen leaned on his elbows, legs spread, and clearly impatient. Given that he was already half-hard, understandable. Nonetheless, Hux took some time to slick himself; he wanted to do everything right. Once his fingers were clean, he put the gloves back on with a smirk. 

The pilot arched his back when Hux finally put his hands on him, petting his cheeks before spreading them. Guiding himself with one hand, Hux pushed in slowly, keeping his moves under a tight control not to spoil the moment… but Pazen was so warm under him… and the sounds he made… positively sinful... 

“Please, sir… more.” 

Hux plunged without planning any more, losing himself in the delicious sensations of the willing, writhing body between his hands, and the final piece in his victory. At some point he slipped a hand between the pilot’s thighs, his gloved fingers toying with the hot, hard flesh he found there. Pazen now had his head lowered onto the mattress, biting the sheets to stifle his moans. 

Hux’s pace became erratic, his thrusts faster and deeper. His hands went once again to his lover’s chest to pet the soft skin there, pinch a nipple... Under him, the pilot arched one last time, pushing his hips back onto his officer’s length, before he suddenly went boneless. Hux gave another thrust or two and almost cried out as he came, his arms finally releasing Pazen, who sprawled on the sheets without the support. The redhead carefully withdrew, his head spinning. 

“Maker...” he groaned. 

“Not quite...” was the muffled reply. 

Hux could not help it; he laughed as he sat beside Pazen. Trust the man to make such a comment right after some (in Hux’s case) deliciously pleasurable sex. 

“Are you fine?” 

“Uh, uh,” the pilot nodded. 

Hux trailed his fingers along the other man’s spine, causing a full-body shudder and another sated sigh. Rising again, he went to the attached refresher to pick a towel and dip it in warm water. 

Coming back into the bedroom, he cleaned himself and Pazen, the pilot clearly enjoying the attention. 

"Want me to go?” he asked. 

“No, you can stay the night if you like,” Hux granted. “You’re not on duty tomorrow; no one will bother you about it.” 

_“Can you... can you keep the gloves on, next time?” the pilot asked almost shyly after they were done. “I really liked that.”_

_“Of course, dear,” Hux purred. “If it pleases you...”_

**Author's Note:**

> For interested readers, Poe's "thanks" might be developped in a second chapter.


End file.
